


heavy and red

by weird_bird (2weird4)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Butch/Femme, Clothed Sex, F/F, Female Jason Todd, Female Tim Drake, Genderswap, Latino Jason Todd, M/M, PWP, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9004192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2weird4/pseuds/weird_bird
Summary: Jay pulls Tabby away from her hostess duties at the Wayne Christmas gala and has more than one surprise for her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lacemonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacemonster/gifts).



> Title from ["Drive"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OsG-eN96fVc) by Melissa Ferrick (NSFW).
> 
> Brief, non-pejorative use of d-slur in the paragraph starting with "She's always kept her nails short" if that's a trigger for you. 
> 
> They are a bit rough, but consent is absolutely explicit and enthusiastic. Characters are of age.

“What are you _doing_ here?” Tabby demands.

Jay contacted her on her comm while she’d been trying to play junior hostess at the annual Wayne Christmas party. She feared the worst from Jay’s vagueness, assumed she was injured or on the run, but now she sees Jay leaning against her bike, cool as anything. The helmet she holds against her hip glints dull crimson under the blare of the garage lights. 

“I thought holidays were the time for family,” Jay drawls. She sets her helmet on the seat beside her and then braces her arms back. Even through her layers of tank top, flannel, and open leather jacket, Tabby can see her muscle flex and roll.

Determined not to be distracted by the _gun show,_ Tabby crosses her arms over her chest. Half because she wants to display her ire and half because, well, it’s chilly in the garage, and her nipples are perking under her tight purple dress. “Jay, I’m serious. Beth’s going to kill me if I’m missed.”

“You won’t be missed.” Jay looks her up and down and Tabby crosses her arms tighter, heat rising to her cheeks. “C’mere,” she says lowly, and--Tabby can’t resist any longer.

Heels clicking on the floor, she crosses over to her. “I can’t be gone for long, you know that,” she says with mild reproach, but she’s already stroking her fingers down Jay’s warm biceps, leaning in, small against her chest.

“I don’t know why you’re worried about that,” Jay says with a slow smirk. “You never take that long anyway.” 

“Hey!” she protests laughingly.

Just as Tabby gives her a reproachful look, Jay grabs her and hauls her against her chest. She whirls her around and pushes her back against the gleaming shell of one of Beth’s favorite cars. Hard enough to make her gasp, because Jay knows she won’t break. And yet with a gentle hand cupping the back of her head, so light it doesn’t even crush her updo.

Tabby wraps slender legs around Jay’s strong waist on cue and squeezes hard enough to make Jay grunt a little and then laugh. 

“Okay, you’re mad. But how mad?” Jay brushes their noses together and then kisses her. 

She tastes clean and cool but her mouth is warm and wet, the give of her lips so generous. Tabby can’t make herself pull away enough to answer, winding her fingers through Jay’s short dark hair instead, nails skidding against her scalp. 

Jay gives a low gasp. Jay’s always been louder than her, unapologetic in a way Tabby’s never managed for all that she’s tougher than she looks. Takes names, takes up space. Doesn’t budge for anyone. Says she doesn’t need anyone but herself anymore.

And Tabby can play her like a fiddle.

“I’m mad?” Tabby questions faintly. She huffs a laugh and shakes her head. Her legs press in again and her hips press up, want throbbing in her abdomen. She can feel her heel slipping slowly off her foot.

“That’s too bad. I kinda like you mad.” Jay dips her head and brushes her mouth along the line of her throat, nibbling dangerously.

“If I was mad, we wouldn’t be doing this,” Tabby huffs. Taking Jay’s hand in her own, watching the interplay of their fingers, hers slim and delicate, Jay’s broader and darker, she guides her hand under her close-fitting skirt.

“Oh fuck,” Jay groans when her callused fingertips push against and under Tabby’s panties, like it’s Jay who’s being touched. “No granny panties today, huh?” Silk and lace, not the practical cotton she favors under her Red Robin suit.

Tabby’s knee nudges up between Jay’s legs through her jeans. She has to shove against her some for leverage--her elbow clangs off the side-view mirror and the door handle digs into her hipbone, but it’s worth it. Jay feels hot even under loose, thick denim and boxers. 

_“Tabby--”_ Jay buries her dark head in Tabby’s throat and slips her fingers blindly against her where she’s so wet, so wet for her already.

The noise of the party dims as the blood thumps like a beat in Tabby’s ears. “Jay, God, Jay, come on,” she urges. She hates how pitchy her voice gets, feels too shrill, but Jay seems to like it.

“Yeah.” Jay folds to her knees and shoves up Tabby’s dress. Her hipbones look frail under Jay’s hands as they curl around her, Jay’s hungry tongue lapping at her through the silk. She can see the rise of her breasts under her tank top, a drop of sweat rolling down the smooth swell despite the cold.

Tabby’s moaning now, one foot over Jay’s built shoulder, trying not to dig her heel into her back. Her bare sole plants on the smooth concrete as she tries to push into the mouth between her thighs, soaking her underwear. “I have to go back out there in these,” she objects, breathier than she wants to sound.

“I know,” Jay tells her, grin made more wicked with her shining wet mouth. 

Nevertheless, she hooks her thumbs in her panties and drags them down so that she can get at her. Her tongue swipes twice all the way over her, making Tabby’s thighs twitch. “You taste so good, Tab,” Jay pants against her thigh. She sucks a kiss there above the line of her stockings and Tabby keens, feeling a dark bruise rise under the thin skin there. “I don’t ever wanna stop.”

Her fingers bury themselves in Jay’s hair, fluffing it up and mussing it from where the helmet haphazardly flattened it against her skull. Her tongue is quick and clever. Tabby’s pleasure spikes like a cardiogram, leaving her sucking in breaths, pulling her head in closer. 

Jay’s nose brushes her clit and then she’s merciless, tip of her tongue dancing and teasing. Two fingers plunge inside her with almost embarrassing ease and curl. Tabby jerks against the solid curved form of the car behind them, foot slipping on the ground. And then she’s fucking her with her fingers. Knuckles bump against her folds and she jolts and moans and moans. No one hearing her now would think she’s the quiet one.

“Ah, ah, ah--” Tabby comes before she can remember to breathe. Electricity shocks up her body and whites out her brain as she rides it out against Jay’s face. Jay’s sharp grey eyes blur in her vision. Sagging against the car, boneless, she can only clamp her leg around Jay as she keeps licking, keeps pulling out her pleasure.

Jay sinks back on her knees with a sound that makes Tabby blush brighter even now. Sweaty strands of hair cling to her forehead or curl up worse than the wind could ever get them. Tabby’s sure that her hair’s snaked free of its careful arrangement, too, but all she can do right now is unhook her leg with a limberness born of nighttime vigilantism, kick off her other heel, and grab her close.

Towering over her, Jay wraps a thick arm around her waist and they breathe together for a minute, breasts brushing and foreheads leaning together. More tenderness than Tabby can take. Shift the mood. 

“You take to training pretty well,” Tabby murmurs playfully. Her lips lift into a smile and she cups Jay’s neck. “Good girl.”

Jay’s eyes narrow and she looks like she might growl at her, which is only encouragement. Tabby pushes aside the layers of leather and worn flannel and runs her hand down her flank, skating her bare breast and down her heaving side. Then under her tank top. Skin smooth, scarred, smooth again. Abdomen barely yielding when she presses.

“What are you doing, examining me? You want me to stick out my tongue and say ‘ah’? _Aah--”_ Tabby kisses her to shut her up, biting at her lip and licking in to taste herself salt-sweet on her tongue.

She’s always kept her nails short. Nothing else makes sense when she has bad habits like biting her nails and punching criminals’ lights out. Still, Jay teased her for it, telling her she’d learned the first lesson of a baby dyke. Kissed her fingers and sucked the tips while Tabby’s stomach swooped and she felt just as young as she was. 

Jay likes it when she scratches at her skin a little still, and she lets her nails skid along her hip. Pops open and unzips her jeans. Jay shifts on her feet, but keeps Tabby flush as her hand cups at her past the riot of silky black crinkly curls. “You need an invitation, princess-- _oh_ \--” 

Tabby trades Jay’s smugness for her own when she rubs up against her clit. Jay doesn’t like fingers inside, but she likes a lot else. She likes it when Tabby flirts her fingertips against her lips. Likes when she bumps her clit and stops and starts. How soft she is startles Tabby every time. Pulsing warm-wet against her hand, taking her touch. 

All of Jay’s bulk shakes against her and she mouths messy at her neck and her earlobe, skating around her dangling earring. “You’re so good,” she murmurs against her, all husky, and she gives her more and more. 

Her wrist is starting to hurt, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters but the tremor in her muscles and the gravel in her voice. “You’re so good, Jesus, Tabby, nothing feels as good as your fingers on me, nothing, nobody.”

The savage satisfaction that gives Tabby makes her want to run. But she clings tighter instead. Swallowing, she lets Jay pump against her hand and scrape her teeth down her neck. 

Just hangs on, hangs on til Jay gives that cry like she’s hurting and locks up against her and comes, too, comes and comes. 

Tabby’s hand comes away slick and she licks it all off her fingers, holding Jay’s hot hard eyes. 

They kiss each other dizzy and reel against the car. 

“Well,” Jay says, and it’s almost smarmy as she leans away again. She pulls up her jeans with a jangle of the zip and buttons them back up. There’s something nearly shy about her grin, though, and the color’s high under her brown skin. “I actually did come here for a reason.”

Tabby, tugging her skirt straight, looks up at her. Now that Jay’s big warm body isn’t up against her, she’s shivering in the cold and scowling a little at the stickiness. “You didn’t kill somebody, did you?” Jay’s grin widens. Oh god, she killed somebody.

“Oh, come on.” Jay rolls her eyes some, like she could be somehow offended by that after decapitated heads in a bag. “I didn’t kill anybody. Maybe somebody’s hopes and dreams…”  


“What?” Uneasy at her ambiguity, she plants her hands on her hips and stares her down once she has her heels on her feet again.

Jay just drapes her jacket around Tabby’s shoulders. She’s drowning in the buttery leather, but it’s still heated from Jay’s body and she can’t help but curl into it as Jay holds up a finger and turns back towards her bike. 

She watches the line of her back and how her jeans pull over her ass as she bends to retrieve something. God, she’s going to have to peel her out of all that one day, but between them it’s all about masks and armor, on Tabby’s terms, not Jay’s.

“Merry Christmas, fear_isthe_mindkiller.” Jay turns around with a beautiful box in red.

 _“What?”_ Tabby peels the fountaining ribbon off the top and winces as she wrecks the wrapping. “Really? _You’re_ rojohomo?”

“Uh, who else?” Jay says, laughing with an _endearing_ edge of nerves.

She’d narrowly lost a bidding war for a limited edition volume of collected comics she’d been hankering after for the past year to some _jerkwad,_ not due to lack of funds, but because Barbara had called her over for an assist with the Birds of Prey. And here it is, still in its shiny plastic, vibrant colors shining up at her. “You _outbid me?”_

“Well, yeah! You just left,” Jay scoffs. Tentatively tongue-in-cheek, she adds, “Had to get it for my girl.” 

Tabby’s head shoots up at that and they need to talk, they really need to talk, but the hopeful shape of Jay’s mouth drives her into her arms.

 _“Feliz Navidad,_ Jay,” she whispers, cheek to cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Lace! You're a fantastic writer and I've had so much fun talking to you these past couple months.


End file.
